


It might as well be spring

by muscatlove



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muscatlove/pseuds/muscatlove
Summary: It was Taylor who had convinced him to go early to the spring fair, desperate to get away from the cottage now that the rains had come to an end and the green shoots were wildly sprouting out of the surrounding lands. But it was Evgeni, stupidly handsome with his long face and sleepy eyes, who convinced Sidney to enjoy the day.





	It might as well be spring

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SidGeno Fluff Fest Week 7: Puppies. Unbetaed, feel free to leave comments if you catch any errors. I handwave any historical accuracy in setting or language, with apologies.

It was Taylor who had convinced him to go early to the spring fair, desperate to get away from the cottage now that the rains had come to an end and the green shoots were wildly sprouting out of the surrounding lands. Three months of sneezing at the damp smells from the mattresses and socks that never seemed to dry all the way, and anyone would be excited for even the weak sunshine, Sidney supposed. He had never quite gotten used to the constant itching to be useful warring against the discomfort of walking through muddy roads and flooded fields to get anywhere, and his eyes longed for the freedom of looking into the distance, rather than squinting in the candlelight at the busywork projects they all ended up inventing to keep from going mad. 

His sister had been encouraged by their neighbors to take up sewing, but she had no patience for it, aside from necessary repairs to the ever-evolving holes in her stockings and skirts. Instead, while Sidney grumbled over his own slow attempts at repairing the ridge of the thatched roof after a particularly bad storm, Taylor had been discovering a surprising facility at knotwork. Sid had entered their small home one afternoon as the sun set, shaking the bits of reed from his hair and scraping at the moss and dirt that had gotten under his nails, only to discover his sister happily curled up with what appeared to be a growing net, a loop of string tied around her foot for tension. A few days of practice later, she had co-opted Sidney into helping with her projects, abandoning his own whittling in favor of making her wooden frames to string into a set of squared-off racquets, which she insisted would be great fun to play with once the rains ended. Sidney had mentioned Taylor’s new hobby to Christopher during one of their visits, and his wife Maureen had gamely offered to see if her brother the fletcher would make a few shuttlecocks for the children to play with at the fair. 

Thus, Taylor could hardly stand to wait any longer to test her creation, and she had stood still long enough for Sidney to tie her hair back with one of last year’s faded ribbons and to sling a pack over her shoulder with the racquets, her pride and joy, and all but pushed him out the door to walk to fields at the center of town. Sidney had delighted in teasing her, locking his knees and claiming that being cooped up indoors had left him with no strength to go out, bursting out in laughter at her cry of rage as she dropped a shoulder and gave him a shove over the threshold. 

They walked down the path from their home near the edge of the woods, and Sidney let Taylor run ahead, the joy of spring finally coming filling her to near bursting. He carried only a small pouch with his own creations: a handful of tiny wooden figures he had carved with his pocketknife at the start of the rains before being swept along with Taylor’s projects. Sidney wasn’t sure yet of their purpose: a gift, recipient yet unknown? Something small to add to the tables where the villagers displayed their cabin fever projects, to sell or keep as the spirit moved him? In the years after their father passed and the rental fees for the land had been high enough to send him searching for other work, Sidney found his own interests second to taking care of his sister, and any resentment for the situation had long passed over him, leaving him unworried about the fate of his festival work in favor of wanting Taylor to enjoy promoting her own creations.

The road to the town center was bumpy with the tread of wagon wheels, and the ducks quacked as they crossed the little wooden bridge behind the mill, the sound of the waterwheel at work providing a sweet soundtrack to the spring scenery. Taylor hummed a song she’d made up, the words to which seemed to change every day, and currently seemed to be about a brown-eyed boy stolen away by the fairies. 

“Did you decide what to use your pocket money on?” Sidney asked his sister, having listened to her debates every night for the last week as her excitement built. 

“I haven’t decided for certain, but if there are sugar candies then at least six pieces, and maybe a new ribbon, and if the tinker is there maybe he’ll have some kind of rings I can use to string up my hammock for the summer!” Taylor skipped along, the racquets rattling as they bounced against each other in the sack. “What will you buy, Sid?” 

Sidney raised his eyebrow, pretending to think on it. “Well.. I thought maybe you would offer to buy me a meat pie since I made you all those frames.. and maybe I’d like a ribbon of my own, hmm?” Taylor gave him a dirty look, shaking her hair back and forth. 

“You don’t have enough hair for a ribbon, and you offered to make the racquets, you know! I might still get you a pie, but it’ll be because I want to give it to you, not because you asked for it. Hmph.” She stuck her tongue out. “If anything, you should buy ME a pie, because I’m still growing and you’re done.” 

Sidney made a face at that, still irritated that his height seemed to have capped out despite the rest of his body still growing and changing. “We’ll see how tall you get, Taylor, but don’t grow too quickly, because those shoes need to last you at least a few months longer.” He dodged her hand, too used to the back-and-forth teasing that had reached a fever pitch during these last weeks of the poor weather, both of them restless in too small a space to get along easily any longer.

“Well anyway, of course you must find something nice for yourself; you shan’t have any fun at all if you don’t look at all the stands and see what there is to buy!” Taylor fell in with his steps as they joined up with a few other early birds eager to see what the fair might have to offer this year, and within a few moments she had already found half her yearmates and was loudly comparing stories about their fair projects, without even a spare thought for a goodbye to her brother. 

“She’s growing up, eh?” At the sound of Christopher’s voice, Sidney turned, smiling as he reached out an arm to give the other man a squeeze around his shoulder in greeting.

“Good day, Christopher! It looks like you've been busy,” Sidney’s eyes widened at the basket filled with spun yarn that the older man carried, likely his wife’s work after the shearing of the sheep a few months earlier. “What happened to Maureen? And don’t even say it, I don’t know what I’ll do if she needs new clothes before the harvest,” Sidney joked. Christopher had long been his closest friend, and he knew perhaps better than anyone else how poorly Sidney had taken giving up so much of their land after his father had taken ill and passed faster than any of them had expected. 

Christopher motioned ahead to the tents and stands that sprung up every year around the green. “She’s ahead somewhere with the children, and I think one of them has a packet for your sister with the shuttlecocks. My brother-in-law came through, though I think they’ll have a fine game with or without his help.” 

“I can’t thank you both enough for indulging Taylor, I thought she’d be climbing the walls soon if the rains didn’t stop. You should see the size of the net she made, if she can get it strung up somewhere we might never seen the children again once they begin their games.” Sidney raised a hand to wave at some of the townspeople he hadn’t seen much of since the damp had set in.

“It’s no trouble, and I think we may all deserve a break. If I had to spend one more day indoors with those two running around in circles, I might have put them into an traveling show and charged the town to see them, they had become so wild.” Christopher shook his head, letting out a sigh. “At any rate, I’m going to look for my wife, and we’ll meet up again once I find a place for all this stuff. Maureen has a mind to barter it for lord knows what, and I’m tired of carrying it.” They pledged to meet later in the afternoon, and Sidney watched him wander towards the tables under the colorful tents, some of the girls already stringing banner chains made of faded fabric cut into triangles between the tent posts to add to the festive feeling in the air.

Sidney looked around for Taylor, not seeing her but not worried as children raced between the tables, the sounds of laughter and yelling coming from all over the green as the tables were set. He gave a few greetings as he passed a councilwoman who had helped him in the early days of raising Taylor by himself, and reached into his satchel to pull out a pair of tiny wooden soldiers, which he gave to the young boy clutching her skirts. The boy’s shy smile as his eyes lit up at the present warmed Sidney’s heart, and he rustled his hair before continuing to wander.

A pair in colorful costume were setting up stage for a marionette show, pinning the striped fabric around the cabinet as a few small children were already sitting in the grass with rapt attention to the performers. Beyond that were various tradesmen and women bringing out baskets of treats to hawk, stoking fires and setting out trays. A large black dog was sitting a few feet away, looking hopefully up at the food on display. Sidney smiled as the pup ignored the occasional shout of the workers, sitting calmly and watching the food. 

Feeling pulled by an unknown force, Sidney found himself walking over, kneeling down and reaching out a hand to scratch the dog’s ear. “Look at you, sweet boy. So handsome, and so large,” he said softly, smiling as the dog tilted his head to offer his neck for attention. 

“You think so? Usually not what they say about me, but I accept compliment if it’s from you.” Sidney froze, his eyes darting over the dog to a pair of skinny legs that had suddenly appeared behind it, and then up — and up some more — at the man who had spoken.

Sidney’s mouth opened to respond, but to his great embarrassment, the words wouldn’t come, and to compound the situation, he felt his cheeks flush as he took in the stranger’s face. 

“You—“ His heart skipped a beat as he took in the man’s long face and sleepy eyes, with a hint of a grin as he looked down at Sidney. “I— I'm sorry, is this your dog?” Sidney shot up, more clumsy than usual, and realized immediately that the stranger towered over him, and his eyes widened as the man’s hand reached out to steady him. The size of his palm alone made even Sidney’s broad arm look smaller than usual, and he felt his own palms start to sweat in anticipation — of what, he wasn’t sure. 

“Jeffrey? He’s with me, but not sure he’d agree he’s mine.” The man shrugged, looking down at the dog and.. not moving his hand from Sidney’s arm, for some reason. “I think he might want to be baker's dog instead, better food.” 

“Uh.. oh? Better than what?” Sidney’s tongue darted out to nervously lick his lower lip, and he couldn’t help but notice that the man’s eyes followed the movement. 

“Better than tinker, can cook but don't get meat pies so often.” He grinned at Sidney, finally letting go and offering one of his giant hands to shake. “Name’s Evgeni, that’s me,” he said, motioning his head towards the cart a little ways away, covered in drawers and hanging tools and what looked like sample work. 

“Ev.. geni?” Sidney swallowed, shaking his head to clear the fog. “Sidney,” then more firmly, “Sid. Nice to meet you.” He reached out to shake Evgeni’s hand, feeling a light tickle as Evgeni’s fingertips brushed against his wrist before they separated. 

Evgeni nodded, looking Sidney over. “Can say Geno instead, if easier. What you bring, Sidney Sid?” He looked around, as if searching for Sidney’s own stand. 

“Just- just Sid is fine. Well, not much.. I made some small things, but it’s mostly my sister who brings things, you see.” Sidney lifted his satchel with one hand, propping it on his knee and reaching in to pull out one of his carvings, which turned out to be of the one of a dog, it’s mouth open with small teeth showing and tail frozen in movement. He held it out to Evgeni, whose eyes widened in delight. 

“Sid! You make this?” Evgeni grinned, turning it over in his hand as he looked at the detail of the whittling, and then held it out to Jeffrey for inspection. “Maybe looks better than this guy, what you think?” He prodded the dog’s buttocks gently with the tip of his shoe, and Jeffrey obligingly barked in response. 

“Well, it’s just a hobby for the winter rains, I farm a little but mostly I work on the drainage projects for the village, which isn’t much of a skill to show off at a fair.” Sidney rubbed a hand through the back of his hair, shrugging one shoulder. “But you should see Taylor — my sister’s — pieces, she’s been making a game set.” He shook his head as Evgeni tried to hand the dog back to him. “Keep it, I didn’t really make it to sell.” 

Evgeni blinked, then his grin got wider. “For me? I'm keep safe!” Evgeni reached into his pocket for a piece of cloth and wrapped the dog, motioning for Sidney to follow him as he walked back over to his cart and opened up a little drawer, tucking the dog safely away. “There, now nobody thinks it’s for sale. Special present, not for thieves.” 

Sidney felt his flush grow stronger, smiling helplessly. “I don’t think there’s much demand for theft of bits of wood.” 

“What do you know? If someone sees, looks at Jeffrey, remembers how good he looks. Maybe steal it if they can’t get him. Ha!” Evgeni blew a raspberry at the dog. “You’d go with them if they gave you one bite of food, don’t pretend.” Jeffrey ignored him, settling down into the grass in response.

Sidney sunk back down to one knee, reaching out to rub Jeffrey’s side, and the dog obligingly rolled back to reveal his belly. Sid glanced up at Evgeni, who was still watching him, and felt a prickle of hope. “Don’t tell my sister that, we hardly have room for two, and she’d steal him away in a heartbeat.” 

“Steal who?” Taylor ran up to him, her hair already coming loose from the ribbon’s hold and heedless of the smudges of dirt on her skirts. “Oh! A puppy!” She immediately dropped her bag of racquets and buried both arms into Jeffrey’s fur, rubbing circles into his skin and making sounds of happiness. “Can we have him? Please?”

Evgeni glanced at Sid quickly and then affected a deep voice, sounding stern. “Who you, steal my dog away?”

Taylor looked up in surprise. “I’m Taylor, and I wouldn’t steal your dog! Is he yours?” 

Evgeni bent down to match her height and look her in the eye, arms crossed over his knee. “What if he wants a place to sleep tonight? He’s lazy dog, likes to be indoors all the time.” He paused, waiting for her response.

Taylor looked at her brother, eyes wide. “He can stay with us? The puppy can visit?” 

Sidney looked at Evgeni, who kept a straight face. “He could, but he has partner.” Evgeni grinned, spreading his hands open. “I can stay on floor, if room for both of us, you know.” 

Swallowing, Sidney’s glance darted from Taylor’s hand tugging his shirt back to Evgeni, eyes sparkling as he waggled his eyebrows at the siblings. “Oh? So if we take you in for the night, we get Jeffrey too?” 

Evgeni scoffed. “You think he’s such good guest, he eat your food and snore all night. I can sing, play games-“ He looked at Taylor questioningly. “I heard you like games?” 

Taylor jumped up, grabbing at the knot on her bundle and suddenly wielding one of her racquets in Evgeni’s face. “Yes! I made these, you can play a game with them,” she said as she reached into her pocket, extracting a feather shuttlecock that Maureen’s children must have passed on to her. “I even made a net! Well, sort of, I mean, it needs some trees or poles to tie it to so you can use it.” 

Evgeni reached out to inspect the racquet, giving an impressed whistle. “You make these?” 

Taylor nodded, then pointed to Sidney. “Well, he makes the shape, and then I make the netting! It’s easy, you know, it’s just making loops over and over again.” 

Evgeni shook his head, plucking at the strings. “This is good quality, very strong. You do good job, can I test?” Taylor handed him the shuttlecock, and he held it between two fingers, then tossed it up and bounced it against the net. “Hmm, not bad. Nice work!”

Sidney grinned as Taylor puffed up with pride, giving Jeffrey one last pat and standing up straight again, watching as Evgeni stood as well. “What do you say, Taylor, are you willing to take poor Jeffrey in for the night if it means Evgeni comes too?”

Taylor gave Evgeni a weighing glance, then nodded firmly. “You like my brother, and Jeffrey likes you, so it’s all right with me. Although we only have the two beds, and I don't think it's proper to share with me.” She reached out to shake Evgeni’s hand. “Is your name Yev.. Yevgeni?”

Evgeni shook her hand, giving Sidney a quick look of amusement. “Maybe say Geno, it’s easy for you. What you say, Jeffrey?” Jeffrey’s eyes closed as he ignored the question, breathing softly. “Ok, Jeffrey is useless. I say sounds good.” He brushed off his pants against his pant legs, looking serious. “If you need things fixed, you let me know tonight. I’m sell things now, make some money, and then we meet later, Sid?”

Sidney smiled, resting a hand on Taylor’s shoulder. “It sounds good to me, Geno. We’ll come find you before we depart, and you can follow us with your cart. It’s about fifteen minutes’ walk,” he warned. 

Geno nodded. “I promise, I’m good guest. Him, no promises.” He looked at Sidney, biting at his lower lip. “Ok, go look around the fair, Sid and little Taylor. See you soon,” he waved. 

Taylor cheered, collecting her racquets and waving back. “Bye, Geno! I’ll be back!” Ignoring Sidney, she raced off to rejoin the other children. 

Geno watched her run, then gave Sidney another look. “You sure is all right? Don’t want to disappoint kids, but.. I understand if not good idea.” He shrugged, a little more tense than while Taylor was present.

Sidney nodded. “I think my sister would cry if she thought I took away Jeffrey's chance for a visit.” Feeling bolder, he looked at Geno more frankly. “Jeffrey has to sleep on the floor, but I think we can fit in the bedding if you don't mind sharing."

Geno stared for a moment as his expression cleared, his own cheeks starting to flush. “Yeah? Good.” He grinned at Sidney, looking more handsome than he had any right to, really, Sidney thought. “Then shoo, have business, have to keep safe.” He patted the drawer with the little wooden dog figure. “Come back later!”

Sidney waved, a sudden desire for the fair day to be over filling his head, despite his earlier wish to never go back to the cottage. “I'll be back, Geno.” He turned and saw Taylor among the crowd of children at the back of the puppet show. Glancing over his shoulder at Geno, who was unashamedly watching him walk away, he felt a lightness in his heart. “Good luck with your sales!” 

“Shoo! No business if you stand there distracting customers!” Geno waved his hands at Sidney’s backside, squeezing his eyes shut and turning aside with a brief mutter. 

Sidney stumbled off, unable to keep the grin off his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "It Might As Well Be Spring" from the musical _State Fair_. This comes from a mishmash of places, namely thinking recently about my abiding love of _The Blue Sword_ by Robin McKinley and _The Perilous Gard_ by Elizabeth Marie Pope. This whole thing is just an excuse to get a scene out of my head while I'd rather not be working on taxes.


End file.
